


All the Rage

by Deannie



Category: NCIS
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-07-27
Updated: 2004-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 08:36:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/898202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deannie/pseuds/Deannie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jethro Gibbs could never admit to having been party to such sordid affairs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Rage

"Ducky." 

The pathologist turned away from his latest "houseguest" and looked up at the far too tired man who was just entering the room. 

"Jethro!" The hale greeting left his living companion looking even more tired, but Ducky ignored the younger man's exhaustion with long-practiced ease. "I was just about to call you." He turned back to the body on his slab and gestured at the flayed chest. "It appears our young lieutenant died of a heart attack." 

"Natural causes?" Jethro sounded skeptical. As well he might, given the circumstances in which they'd found young Lieutenant Marsters. 

"Certainly not," Ducky proclaimed. "No, Abby found a rather large concentration of digitalis in his system, poor boy." He nodded decisively, attempting not to notice the weary slump of Jethro's shoulders. "No, he was definitely murdered. Though by whom remains a mystery." 

"Not for long," Jethro replied, conviction in his voice. Along with a downtrodden tone that Ducky didn't like one bit. 

"Have you slept, Jethro?" Ducky asked solicitously. "If I may say so, you seem a bit done in." 

Jethro ran a hand over his face--something he'd never do around any of the other NCIS staff. No, Agent Gibbs was always the strong one, wasn't he? Except here, where he knew Ducky knew him better. "This one is definitely one for the books." 

"Indeed it is," Ducky agreed, bending to his work again, though his attention stayed firmly on his younger coworker. "I suppose you never found yourself in one of these clubs when you were active military, did you, Jethro?" 

"No, I never did," his friend replied, distracted. "Except for--" he seemed to realize what he was saying and stopped himself, though Ducky hid a smile at the slip. "Never mind," Jethro bit out, signaling an end to the discussion. 

Yes, of course. Because Jethro Gibbs could never admit to having been party to such sordid affairs. 

"You know," Ducky continued, conversational. "Leather bars were quite the rage when I was this boy's age." He grinned up at Jethro's shocked countenance. "Or so I've heard." 

Heard for himself, of course. First-hand. And the look in Jethro's eyes said that Ducky wasn't the only one with experience in that department. Which made the older man rather warm around the collar. Imagining Jethro's lithe body in one of the more outlandish costumes from Ducky's own heyday... 

He was almost disappointed when Jethro snorted, dismissing the set of affairs, and smacked Ducky lightly on the back of his shoulder. 

"Keep working, Duck," Jethro commanded, more life in his voice now than there had been. "Keep me posted." 

Indeed. Though somehow, he found it rather difficult to focus now, as he heard the elevator car arrive to bear Jethro back to the upper levels of NCIS headquarters. With a sigh, he bagged the last bit of Lieutenant Marsters's accoutrements, running one gloved finger down the length of the leather g-string. 

He leaned over his dead companion with a grin. "Quite the rage indeed." 

* * * * * * *  
The End


End file.
